Make me a promise
by Tai-taiAd1
Summary: Because Rogue had a normal childhood...really she did...(slashy stuff, if you don't know already) rr, please )


Title: Make Me a Promise 

Author: Meesh

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Amy.

Summary: Because Rogue had a normal childhood...really she did...

Pairing: Rogue/OC, hint of R/J

A/N: edited.

* * *

Marie's past is in scattered pieces, but it's there. Her past is in the shape of Amy Tyler, her best friend since 5. She remembers the shape of her face and the high pitched giggles mixed in puddles of punch-drenched gummy bears. She remembers Amy's tiny hands cradling her even tinier elbow, reddening with blood after having tripped on a rock. Marie remembers crying until she thought she'd stop breathing the one summer Amy was going to leave to camp without her. How the little blonde girl pulled her into the backseat of the car and wrapped Marie up in seatbelts and hugs. They sat there hours long, sobbing, when finally Marie's parents agreed to let her go to camp with Amy.

Marie's past is sprinkled with moments with Amy. Like when they were 11 and going to the big kids school for the first time. The brunette was so afraid that Amy held her hand the whole first day. The warmth of palm against palm, strong pulse beating against her faltering one. Marie felt that for the first time, she could do anything, as long as Amy was there. Then the disappointment when the next day when Amy refused to hold her hand any longer, not because she didn't want to, but because all the other kids were starting to laugh. So Marie nodded and agreed. But saved the feeling of the slender hand placed against hers.

Over the summer, they ran together in the fields. Amy with her sparkling blue eyes and pretty pink lips, dancing around and picking wildflowers for her. When she got a big enough bundle, she offered them to Marie and asked for a dance. Of course Marie said yes and so they danced. Marie remembers thinking to herself that she could dance to the music of Amy's laugh for the rest of her life. They spun in circles with the birds and clouds and fell on their backs when the world started to spin with them. Then the older girl slid close to Marie's side and whispered a promise to be friends forever. A whisper of a love scented in strawberry fruit rollups.

Marie's past is riddled with memories kept in boxes. Unlock the time Amy decided they were too old for running in fields and dancing with each other. Especially when they could be dancing with boys. Boys in High School. Even if Marie was a bit doubtful, the blonde would remind her that next year they will be in High school. She'd grin at the younger girl and remind her how she was always so caught up with school work and not nearly as concerned with her cool-factor. And Marie was never able to defy that grin.

Week to week was spent in the passanger's seat of some car belonging to another brother-of, or cousin-of, or best friend-of some guy Amy was seeing. Who Amy was making out with in the backseat. Week to week they'd get dropped off, Marie always at Amy's house because Amy's parents were never home. Week to week Marie would find herself curled up in the corner of her friend's giant bed and wonder why she misses being the one Amy wrapped up in hugs. The next morning Marie's Dad would pick her up, ask her how the night was and always get the same answer. "It was fine." And there would be no further questions.

Marie's past is layered with secrets you would have never guessed. Like how she once enjoyed listening to The New Kids on the Block. Or how she was the one to find Amy's brother's porn and tape every page of the magazine to his bedroom walls for their mom to find later that day. Or how one week before school was over Sophomore year, Amy came crawling into Marie's bed, bawling over her lastest break up. And being the best friend she was, put her homework aside and held Amy, tear after tear. She cracked a small joke about needing to hold Amy's hand through the rest of her life and the older girl laughed. But this time was different because Amy looked up, blue eyes rimmed with tears and smiled and told Marie how beautiful she was. Brushed her dark hair back and giggled at Marie's stunned face. A giggle she hasn't heard since they were 12. A giggle that has changed little after years of never being used. Marie breathed deeply and asked what Amy was doing. But all the blonde did was slide closer. Her eyes dimmed and her breathing shallow, she kissed her. A heartbeat went past, then another, then Marie gained feeling in her hands and started to kiss back.

It was a desperate tangle, interrupted by books and pencils sinking beneath Marie. It was frantic and the younger girl was starting to realize how badly she wanted this. Skin moving against skin, stumbling hands searching for that right spot. Labored breathing and moans. An eternity later, a breathless Marie found a breathless Amy pressing her lips slowly against her neck and along her jaw. And she whispered a promise to be friends forever. A whisper for love lightly dipped in the scent of strawberry fruit rollups.

After a summer of no strawberries, no promises, and no Amy, it failed to surprise her when she wasn't at school when it started. So Marie picked herself up and moved on.

...A bit over a year later, in the hallway, Jean wonders what Rogue is staring at. Rogue, less than a foot away from the taller woman, smiles to herself and says, "You smell like strawberries," and walks away.


End file.
